No sooner had his toddler's steps
Erased their sound from mind,
When they found their way aboard the ship
That leaves all youth behind.

No more tin guns and soldiers
Will his tiny hands behold,
But ammo belts and rifle shells,
In a trench now, dark and cold.

No more the fear of thunder,
Or the shadows on the wall,
Will wake him from his playful dreams,
Or no cries to me, he'll call.

For I gave him to his country,
Like so many mothers do.
Now, 'tis I who lay here weeping,
For his fears are now mine too.

I ask, "Oh Lord, what world is this,
That sends its' sons to war,
To kill another mother's child
On some forbidden shore?"

Written by Virginia Haefner Wark

©2006 Virginia Haefner Wark.  All rights reserved.  Do not copy without written consent from Virginia Haefner Wark.  Contact Virginia.